in light of future memories
by dharkephoenyx
Summary: Rachel Berry was a woman of many talents and experiences - but she's not very good at playing 'Never Ever Have I Ever'. AU Futurefic where Rachel Berry just… experiences. Endgame Finchel with our favourite Gleeks helping her out!
1. intro:the incompleteness of Rachel Berry

**A/N: I'm almost thirty and I hate playing this game because most of my friends are guys, and I grew up as sort of a tomboy, so of course, apparently I missed out on a lot. Anyways, I started this lil tidbit here, and then someone pointed me towards this prompt and well, yea. Based on the _'when you wish upon a star' _prompt over at tumblr. **

**A series of firsts.**

**For gleekgeeky because she actually suggested (sorta demanded) I write this, lol!**

**Disclaimer: Glee is not mine, and apparently, I still need to live some.**

* * *

_intro._

_the incompleteness of Rachel Berry_

_..._

It started simple enough.

She'd just come back from a dinner party with her fathers and her suitemates were lounging in the common room in yoga pants and t-shirts. That wasn't unusual in itself. There was a bottle of Jäger rolling on the floor and a half-finished bottle of Appleton VX sitting on the coffee table. Empty cans of Red Bull littered the floor around their feet.

Clearly, the ladies were having a fun night in.

She was a couple feet from her door when someone yelled out her name. She pivoted and greeted the group of women, raising a hand as she smiled.

"C'mere Berry! Join the fun!" One of her blonde suitemates smiled and waved her over. She hesitated for a beat before she did, plastering a smile on her face as she sat on the closest bean bag chair near her door.

It's not that she didn't know the girls. She knew their names and majors. There was never an issue with the bathroom or kitchen and whenever anyone was having company over, there'd be a note on the whiteboard. She'd been living there for over six months and got along fine with them.

She just didn't know how to be that open and friendly like how they already were.

"Grab a glass, don't be shy honey." Mercedes Jones winked. The dark-skinned beauty and her shared some classes together; she was a fantastic singer. She was the first person Rachel had actually met when she first moved in and of everyone else in the room, she was the only person she'd actually call a close acquaintance. She was two years into a MIS degree and was a computer genius.

She accepted the red cup from a svelte Latina, eyeing the amber-coloured liquid warily. "Um, what exactly are we doing?"

"Drinking, duh." She responded. Santana Lopez was scary. Loud and brash, Rachel never really spoke to her if she didn't have to. But she was smart, like genius smart, and somehow managed to party almost every day, yet made the Dean's Honors List the two years she'd been here. Rachel remembered her saying she was applying for law school as soon as she was done wasting her time.

"I can see that." She raised an eyebrow and picked up the Jäger bottle that had rolled over to her. She eyed it and grinned at the room of women again. "Looks like you've been having too much fun."

Goofy grins and wide smiles greeted her. Rachel wasn't much of a drinker, aside from the few cast parties and dinners she'd attended, she had little experience with alcohol.

"Well, it's colder than St. Nick's left nut outside so we needed to find a way to warm the room up a little." Santana smirked. The blonde sitting in the other bean bag chair giggled lightly and the glass in her hand sloshed liquid onto her shirt. "Crap."

Quinn Fabray. Rachel was pretty sure she was prom queen, homecoming queen and probably every other queen that existed back in her hometown. Maybe a cheerleader too. She was pretty, a classic beauty. She had sparkling green eyes, blonde hair and a look that could freeze fire. She wasn't as loud as Mercedes or Santana, but she was very opinionated and very good at photography, as evidenced by the camera that was always by her side and almost every photo in the common room was one of hers. She had an amazing talent.

"'Never Have I Ever', that's what we're playing now." The last of the women in the room piped up. Brittany Pierce. She danced just like she spoke, lively and powerful. She was usually quiet and reserved, sometimes scatter-brained and more often than not Santana had to steer in the right direction. Rachel had always figured Brittany would be more suited for Juilliard, where she could take dance as a major, she was always dancing! But the tall woman was majoring in social work, and was getting good grades too.

Mercedes clapped her hands for attention. "OK. We all know the rules?"

Her mouth fell open when Rachel raised her hand. "I've never played this game before."

"Huh?"

She shrugged.

"But you do drink? Alcohol?" Quinn asked. Rachel nodded.

"Yes. But I've never played_ this_ game before."

"You didn't go to high school and sneak out for parties?" Santana laughed.

Again Rachel shook her head.

"What, high school or parties?"

"Neither."

"Hold up. _What_?" Santana asked incredulously.

You'd think after two years of college her suitemates would know her a little bit better. But it was her fault really; she spent most of her time in her room or in class or with her parents. Now and then she'd crawl back to Tina's – her one friend since she was eight – and watch movies or discuss what she left behind.

Rachel shrugged.

"What, are you some kid genius who skipped high school and came straight to college or something?"

"Or maybe you were home-schooled?" Quinn offered.

"Yes."

Five pairs of eyebrows rose at her. "Home-schooled." She clarified.

"Imma have fun with this game." Mercedes burst out in laughter. She caught Rachel's eye and grinned. "Someone says 'never have I ever' and adds an experience or something, like, 'gone to the mall' or 'shoplifted' and if you have, you drink."

"Oh. OK."

"Fair warning Rachel, they can be downright nosy." Brittany said.

She nodded again. After all, it couldn't be that bad.

* * *

"Never have I ever… walked down a hallway naked." Santana, Brittany and Mercedes drank.

"Never have I ever… not worn underwear to school or in public for that matter." Brittany and Santana drank. Mercedes snickered and handed over the bottle for Santana to refill her drink.

"I'm going to start putting papertowels under your ass, God only knows what you've picked up where your ass has been."

Santana flipped her off and popped open another can of Red Bull.

"Never have I ever… imagined my lit professor in nothing but underwear and glasses." Mercedes, Quinn and Santana drank.

"San, your lit prof is a woman." Brittany laughed.

"Have you seen those heels? Holy fuck!" Santana shouted.

Rachel laughed with them, swirling the drink inside her cup nonchalantly.

"Berry, you haven't even taken a sip."

She nodded. "I've never done anything you've said yet."

"Jesus, woman. Have you been living under a rock all this time?" Mercedes asked.

She shook her head.

"Christ, we need to get you drunk." Santana muttered.

"Never have I ever… gone skinny-dipping." Everyone, but Rachel, chugged their drink.

* * *

"Never have I ever… kissed a girl." Brittany and Santana winked at each other and drank.

"Never have I ever… let a boy put his hands down my pants." Everyone, but Rachel, drank.

The four women looked over at her.

"Never have I ever … had sex." Everyone drank. Except Rachel.

"Whoa, hanging on to your v-card Rachel?" Santana smirked. Rachel ignored her.

"Never have I ever… let a boy put his hands up my shirt." Rachel just put her drink on the floor and watched as everyone else took a sip.

They stared at her and then looked around at each other.

"Never have I ever… taken my shirt off in front of a guy." Everyone else drank.

* * *

"Never have I ever… gotten flowers on Valentine's Day." Everyone drank, but Rachel's cup was on the floor, still untouched.

"Never have I ever… been kissed on New Year's Eve." Same thing.

"Never have I ever… bought cotton candy at the fair and walked hand in hand down the boardwalk." Again, same thing. Rachel's drink was still untouched.

"Never have I ever… gotten flowers because it's Wednesday." Everyone else drank.

Finally Rachel got up. "OK, clearly this game didn't go as planned. So, I'm just going to go to bed. I, ah, see you ladies in the morning."

She waved and hurried to her bedroom, closing the door gently behind her. She ignored the chattering in the other room, undressing and brushing her hair as she got ready for bed. She didn't want to go back out, not even for the bathroom; she wasn't ready for the multitude of questions or be given the third degree, Santana was good enough to make her tell everything.

She'd gotten to know them a little bit better though, and they in turn got to know she wasn't exactly normal. The worst that could happen was that they'd go back to being indifferent towards her, writing notes on the whiteboard, labelling their leftovers in the fridge, a passing greeting in the common room and being left alone inside while everyone else went out and partied.

The best that could happen was that she could just try and talk to them, try and make friends.

This was why she was here. To have these experiences.

She'd missed out on a lot of things growing up, even though her fathers made sure she was well-rounded in almost every activity. When it came to just hanging out, letting her hair down and letting life happen, she had no clue what to do.

Tonight was actually the first night in a long time she realized how much she'd missed. Her suitemates had lived, they'd had experiences like any normal person. They'd fallen in love, or some approximation of it. They'd been kissed, and not by their fathers or on stage, a real kiss. They'd gotten flowers, just because someone wanted to give them flowers.

Rachel sighed and turned under the covers. She could still hear the girls walking around in the common room, saying their good nights and retreating to the comfort of their own beds.

She thought back to the day she'd decided to go to college.

Her fathers were supportive to a degree, they assumed she would live at home and travel, still work on the stage while she got her degree in whatever she wanted to pursue. She was adamant that she was giving up the stage for a while, pursuing a degree while living on the dorms and trying to enjoy life as a coed.

As she drifted off to sleep, she realized all the questions from the game could've been summed up with one question: never have I ever just had fun.

* * *

**A/N: Alright, so it's not the same thing as the prompt, but it works. I've got my drink in my hands, so lets play: 'Never Have I ever... fill in the blanks, leave me a review ;-)**


	2. a dance of booze and boys

**A/N: So this is long overdue. It's funny, it came to me on my walk home – which I fleshed out with a tall glass of Green Apple vodka and cranberry juice. Kids, drink responsibly.**

**Disclaimer: Glee isn't mine.**

* * *

_a dance of booze and boys_

She was in the kitchen cooking when Santana busted through the door, a devilish smirk appearing on her face as soon as she spied Rachel.

"Put on something sexy songbird! We are going partying!"

She raised her eyebrow, shook her head and turned back to the stove. Going anywhere with Santana, especially to a party, was bound to be a bad idea.

"I see you shaking your head bitch, that won't stop me." Santana waggled her eyebrows and sauntered off towards her bedroom.

Ever since their drinking party, the other girls had started talking to Rachel more often. They invited her to lunch, she had shopping dates with Mercedes and Brittany, they all went out to the movies and she and Santana did laundry for the suite on rotation every other Thursday.

It was different, better – compared to previously casual nods and notes on the fridge. They no longer ignored her and Mercedes and Santana now had identical ringtones on their phone for her number after Santana had stolen her phone and programmed everyone's number in.

She didn't know if it was pity or just mere curiosity, and honestly, she didn't really care. The girls were nice, and Mercedes and Santana were brutally honest, claiming she still had a lot of living to do.

They seemed to want her around so she was actually making more of an effort to play nice. Even Tina liked them, tagging along on outings and popping over for dinner every now and then.

Her two worlds weren't blended, but they seemed to be coming together, so, it was a start.

It was easy, except where it came to Santana. She had learned to take everything the Latina said with a grain of salt. Santana didn't mince words; she said whatever was on her mind and on more than one occasion had actually tried to kiss her, claiming it was part of the college experience, that everyone needed to try at least once.

She wasn't entirely sure how she felt about that one.

And now, since it was Friday night, of course Santana, and by default the other women, would be going to a house party.

Sure enough, when Mercedes came in with the garlic bread Rachel had asked her to pick up to go along with vegetarian lasagna (as long as they didn't know it was vegetarian, there would be no complaints) she was grinning.

"We're going out tonight."

She stared at her new friend. "Out where?"

"Some guys Santana know are having a frat party tonight. All of us are going. Every. Single. One Of us."

Rachel sighed and turned the oven, pulling their dinner out and onto the counter. "I don't have a choice, do I?"

"Nope."

She looked behind Mercedes as Santana walked out of her room holding a sheer navy shirt. "You're gonna be one of the most fabulous bitches at that party. Men, and maybe some women too, will be drooling with joy when I'm done with you."

She frowned. "I am not wearing that."

Mercedes snickered.

"Yes you are." Santana pushed it towards her, a grin on her face.

Rachel stared forlornly at the piece of cloth.

"Take it," Santana snapped. "It's not going to bite you."

Gingerly, she held it up to the light, twisting it around, her mouth gaping at the low cut back. "You can see the ass of my jeans in this shirt!" She exclaimed. There was no way she was wearing this in public!

"Shirt? No sweetie, that's a dress," Santana laughed. "And I've seen you in booty shorts. With an ass like that and those legs, I'd fuck you."

Rachel turned crimson and threw the dress onto the sofa.

It wasn't that she was ashamed of her body – some of the costumes she'd had to wear for her plays and shows were more revealing than what Santana had picked out – but those were in character, she played a role for a while. How was she supposed to go out in public, as Rachel Berry mind you, in something so scandalous?

She didn't think she could pull it off.

"Santana! Quit scaring the girl." Mercedes was full out laughing at their exchange. She had bent over laughing, holding her sides as Rachel's blush deepened at the look on Santana's face.

"What? Snix don't lie. Now, Brit and Quinn are on their way home in like an hour. We need to be dressed and ready to be gone by eleven." Santana clapped her hand and gestured at the dress.

Rachel glanced at the clock, hands creeping towards seven p.m.

"Four hours?" She looks warily at the dress on the couch. "I can be ready in an hour, tops."

Santana paused and looked over her shoulder at them before disappearing inside her door. "Not when I'm helping you bring out the sexy, songbird."

She gulped, turning wide eyes towards Mercedes.

"Can we at least eat first?" She choked out, her eyes flicking to the revealing dress in abject horror.

* * *

"You _want_ me to get drunk?"

"Yes."

"Santana." Mercedes protested, shaking her head at Rachel. "No, sweetie you don't need to."

"What? Listen, this baby-steps-one-foot-in-front-of-the-other-slowly-schtick is bullshit. You want to have experiences, then act like a regular college junior, not some prima donna superstar." Santana pushed the cup of amber liquid towards her again.

Rachel narrowed her eyes at the drink and then at Santana.

"Don't look at me like I'm stupid. How in the world you can be some award-winning star and still be afraid to take a chance is beyond me."

"This isn't a game San."

"I know Brittany," Santana said exasperated.

"Don't force her," Quinn murmured.

"I'm not forcing her! I'm just taking the training wheels off before she goes riding. And maybe if she did do some riding, she'd be less uptight and actually have fun for a change."

The insult she was about to shoot back at the girl died on her tongue as Santana grinned salaciously at her.

"Besides, how else do you expect to break her drunk cherry?"

"My what?" She shrieked, looking around their group. The others snickered at the look on her face.

She was staring to think the past few weeks was a mortifying game the others had come up with: befriend her and then embarrass the holy hell out of her. For one second, her heart stopped.

"Don't be a bully Santana. Whatever happens, let it be Rachel's choice," Mercedes lectured. She pushed the cup Santana held out and shook her head at Rachel. "Do what you want in your own time Rachel. Do not let Slutty Barbie bully you into anything."

She offered Mercedes a shy smile, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Get drunk for the first time. Cross it off your list," Santana urged again, dangling the cup in front of her.

She thought for a second; Santana had a point. But could she really get that wasted? At a frat party? This was like jumping off the deep end and bypassing the kiddie pool. The girls were her roommates, barely friends.

Could she trust them?

She sighed and rolled her shoulders, reaching out for the proffered glass.

"You sure?" Mercedes asked.

She nodded and bit her lip.

"OK then. Just, not too drunk. Alright?" Mercedes cautioned.

"We'll all keep an eye on you. So you don't do anything stupid that's not on your list," Brittany offered.

Rachel shook her head then shrugged and took the drink from Santana, sniffing it carefully. She paused and turned wide eyes to Brittany. "Wait, what list?"

"Drink," they ordered.

Santana waggled her eyebrows again and Rachel sighed, tipping her head back as the harsh liquor slid down her throat. She coughed, hacking as it burned on its way down. Santana clapped her hands and flung her arm over Rachel's shoulder, turning them towards the heart of the noisy party.

"Good girl. Now, let's get the party started!"

With Santana on one side and Brittany on the other, she waltzed into the party, loud music throbbing in her ears, bodies gyrating and moving on the dance floor. It was hot and musky in the room, men and women everywhere.

She tugged at the dress Santana put her in, barely stopping just midway on her thigh. Her hair cascaded down her back, long, thick and straight, slight bangs over her forehead. Smoky, dark make-up completed her look.

She felt sexy, and a bit daring, quite unlike the 'prima donna superstar' of earlier.

Maybe it was the liquor talking, the one shot of liquid courage to give her a little boost of stepping outside of her comfort zone., but she imagined she was playing a role, still Rachel, but without the restrictions, literally letting her hair down and living in the moment.

Her hips moved as she made her way through the crowd behind her suitemates, fighting her blush when they pass a group of guys who wolf-whistle at them. One of them, a blonde with thick lips reaches out for her hand and Santana slaps it away.

"Let him work for the pleasure of meeting you!" She shouted over the music.

She has no idea what that means, but she followed them through the crowd, her body moving to the music, accepting the cold bottle of beer that Brittany handed her when they got to the other side.

She was at her first ever college frat party.

She squealed happily and clinked bottles with the other girls, tipping the bottle against her lips. It went down smooth and cold, goosebumps erupting over her skin at the sensation.

* * *

The other girls were either dancing on tabletops or mingling with the crowd. Or in Brittany and Santana's case, locked in a bathroom together.

She spotted Mercedes on the other side of the room, talking to a tall, caramel-skinned frat brother and the girl caught her eye, mouthing if she was OK.

She gave a thumbs up and Mercedes nodded.

She wasn't drunk. She could recite all the US presidents by full name, date of birth and term of office.

But walking in a straight line to the kitchen proved a lot trickier. Walking slightly inebriated in five inch stilettos was like walking a tightrope.

Appleton was a bitch. Good stuff, but harsh. She made a note to stay away from it in the future.

She was glad she had only decided to do this only once - her vocal cords were precious and she could only imagine the havoc she was wreaking on them right now. Alcohol was a bad idea for professional singers.

Water. She needed to hydrate. Wash the alcohol from her system and placate her vocal cords.

She pushed her way through the mass of bodies towards the kitchen, where she remembered the coolers were.

Someone pushed her in a haste to get to a bathroom and she nearly lost her balance, almost falling face first into the bottles along the corner. But someone else grabbed her arm, warm strong fingers holding her uptight.

She smiled dopily at the fingers, following the broad hand up an even stronger arm and even broader shoulders to a scruffy jaw with a friendly smile and freckled nose and cheeks.

"Hey, you OK?" He shouted over the music.

She tried to nod, but the room moved when she did. She closed her eyes and pushed her fingers against her temples, moaning at the approaching headache she was guaranteed to get in the morning. Or early afternoon, depending on when she woke up.

A bottle of water appeared in front of her and she peered warily at it.

OK. She wasn't _that_ drunk.

The voice spoke again, shaking the bottle in front of her, "still capped. You can unscrew it yourself," followed by a hearty chuckle and a shake of the bottle again.

"Rachel!"

She squeaked and jumped, turning her body - her arm still in the strong grip - in the direction of the doorway where a stern-faced Mercedes was marching towards her.

"You're supposed to stay where I can see you."

"Thirsty," she drawled. She pointed to the hand still holding the bottle of water out to her and hiccupped, "the voice was offering me water. But the cap is not broken. So this is good."

She lifted her unsteady hand and tried to point to the stranger who was helping her.

Mercedes seemed to relax, looking up to the owner of the voice and smiling.

"Thanks Finn. I'll take her from here. Can you send the Unholy Trinity this way if you see them? I think it's time we take our songbird home."

Husky laughter floated down to her and Rachel turned again to smile in its direction. "Your voice sounds pretty."

More laughter. "Uh, thanks?"

The fingers on her hand squeezed gently before they disappeared.

She frowned.

"Stay here. I'll go get Matt to take you guys home."

"It's fine Finn, I just had the one beer," Mercedes told the pretty voice.

"Yeah, no. I'm getting you guys a lift home. Gimme the keys to your van. No drinking and driving."

She watched Mercedes shake her head, trying to copy the action but stopped when her head started pounding harder. Just moving.. hurt.

The bottle of water reappeared in front of her and she blinked at it.

"Drink, Rachel," Mercedes ordered.

She took the bottle in her hand, peering at it from all angles, amazed at the pretty lights it emitted.

Mercedes sighed and took it from her and she watched as her fingers uncappedd it before giving it back to her.

She gulped it down greedily, sloshing it over the front of her dress when someone jostled her elbow and for the second time that evening, she jumped when someone screamed her name.

* * *

In the short time that Mercedes had left his side Matt had already imbibed two beers and was actually guzzling from the hose in the beer keg while people chanted his name.

At least that's what she heard the guy with the sexy voice say when he came to the kitchen.

"I'll take you guys home. I'm already DD for some of our sorority sisters anyway."

Mercedes put her arm around her shoulder and pushed Santana who was hanging off Brittany ahead of her. Quinn, she had to drag away from a burly blond guy in a letterman jacket.

"Ah, Mercedes?"

She was having trouble keeping one foot in front of the other as they made their way through the crowd and outside.

"Hmm?"

"Isn't DD a bra size? What's he got to do sor-, sorro, getting his sisters bras?"

Mercedes laughed at her and steadied her steps as they went down the porch stairs. She'd long ago ditched the killer heels. Drunk and a broken ankle were too much for one night to risk.

"She get like this often?" The husky voice asked.

She remembered not to shake her head this time, leaning forward as she lifts a finger to poke his shoulder.

"Listen-," she stumbled on a step and Mercedes grabbed onto her before she fell on her face. That would have been bad, very bad.

"I wouldn't know. This is supposed to be her first time."

"Wow," he chuckled.

"Alcohol bad," she groaned, trying to keep her feet moving forward in the direction where she thought Mercedes had parked her van. The large hand rested gently on the small of her back.

"Can you walk?"

She nodded her head slowly, then pushed him away quickly, clutching her hand to her mouth as she bent over, throwing up in a nearby bush.

Someone came over, pulling her long hair away from her face, handed her a handkerchief as more and more cupfuls of whatever Santana had been giving her all night forced its way out of her stomach.

"I feel sick," she groaned hoarsely.

The voice behind her barked out in soft, rich laughter, before curling a hand around her shoulder.

"You just were. Come on, beautiful, let's get you home."

She got to her feet and wobbled before bending over again, the wet sound of throw up hitting the pavement.

"Can I just stay here?" She croaked.

She made to curl into a ball on the floor when strong hands hoisted her up, slipping under her legs, throwing her arm around his shoulder.

"Nope. Come on princess."

She gave in, feeling herself floating as her knight in shining armor carried her to Mercedes' van and settled her gently on the seat.

"Can you stay with her? It'd be easier if I go in to drag the others out."

She felt Mercedes touch a hand to her arm, "Rachel. Stay here with Finn. I'm going in to get the others."

She waved her hand in acknowledgement, too tired to talk.

"Rachel, is it?"

She turned in the direction of the voice, craning her neck up to see its owner. He was tall, like freakishly tall, hair flopping over his forehead. His smile was pretty.

"Hmmm?"

"You alright? Need some more water?"

"Nuh uh." She shook her head, remembering too late that the movement would hurt. "Ow."

"Here, lie down on the seat. Your head won't swim that much," the voice murmured from beside her as the hand started tossing stuff from the seat onto the floor.

She slumped against TallandSexy, too tired to move. She knew Mercedes had said his name but for the life of her she couldn't remember it, so TallandSexy it was.

Her head swam, the music from the house thumping around her, exacerbating her headache. She wanted to just sleep, sleep away the haziness and the throbbing in her mind. And TallandSexy was comfortable. Warm and comfortable and smelled really good and his arm wrapped around her felt really nice.

"You feel good," she sighed and burrowed closer into TallandSexy's side. She felt the vibrations of his chest as he laughed, turning her face into his side, inhaling the scent of him – and musk and smoke from the party.

She felt his fingers in her hair, softly stroking through the silky strands. In the haze of her mind, she thought she should be more worried, she didn't know the guy, as much as her roommates did, he was still a stranger to her.

But her body would not budge.

After a minute though, someone called out and TallandSexy stirred beside her on the seat.

She moaned, protesting his movement and soft laughter floated down to her.

"Don't leave," she moaned again.

The body beside her moved, and then the scent of TallandSexy surrounded her and someone patted her back.

"I'm sorry, beautiful. Duty calls."

She curled up onto the seat, her hands fisting the material covering her, pressing it to her nose and sighing as she drifted off to sleep… _beautiful _floating around her mind as she slipped into the darkness.

* * *

**A/N: a drunk Rachel is always hilarious and I promise you TallandSexy was the epitome of a gentleman, despite being a frat boy and all ****:)**** Likey?**


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